L'uccello di Paradiso
by SylvarThorne
Summary: *Third chapter up!* D/Hr! Hermione and Draco are Head Girl and Boy together and Rara Avis, a new first year, brings them together. Find out who she is, why she's there, and what happens to the ill-fated couple.
1. Beautiful Bird of Paradise

Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot belongs to me. Characters (sigh) are Madame Rowlings'. And actually, not even the plot belongs to me; it was a suggestion from a FABULOUS fanfic writer (Calypso In Love) friend of mine. Sooo, yeah. Read on!  
  
L'uccello di Paradiso  
  
Chapter One - Beautiful Bird of Paradise  
  
Hermione settled down onto the couch in front of the fireplace to think. She had been ecstatic to find out her final year would be spent as Head Girl, but she had been immediately crestfallen to know it would be spent with a certain Draco Malfoy, who never missed an opportunity to torment her or her closest friends, Harry, Ron and Ginny.  
  
Draco had been so horrible to her that at times the only thing holding her back from socking him with a real nice curse or hex had been a calm hand on her arm, courtesy of Ginny.  
  
On the other hand, it might not be so hard to get along with Draco this year; because he and Hermione had such difficulties being peaceful towards eachother, Dumbledore had requested they arrive a week early to sort themselves out. A fighting Head Boy and Girl quickly lowered the morale of the students, but once Draco was away from his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, he wasn't quite so bad. Maybe he just had a superiority complex that needed to be resolved.  
  
Hermione sighed and leaned back against the plush upholstery of the couch and was quickly mesmerized by the dancing of the flames.  
  
So absorbed was she by the flickering of the fire that she failed to hear Draco enter the room. Only when he cleared his throat to break her concentration did she notice his presence.  
  
"Hello, Granger."  
  
She jumped, startled, then winced at his use of her last name. It never failed to get to her that he - or anyone, for that matter - didn't respect her enough to call her Hermione.  
  
"Mal- Draco, I didn't hear you come in." She hesitated for a split second, trying to think of something to say. Finally, "What have you been up to?"  
  
"Dreaming up ways of terrifying little first-years into submission. Of course, that topic gets old rather quickly - I guess I'm a bit bored with it." With that, he plopped himself down onto the couch close beside Hermione. He had calculated the distance for the maximum discomfort he could get out of her. "And you?"  
  
He had judged well. Hermione was so disturbed by the proximity of Draco that she found an excuse to rise and move to the other side of the room. "Nothing, really. Just..ahh..trying to get a headstart on a paper." She snatched some parchment, a few quills, and an ink bottle and sat down at the table. She began to write furiously.  
  
Draco laughed scornfully. "Definition: Hermione Granger - the original Teacher's Familiar. Always happy to do extra homework, AND hand it in a week early. The only person in four - wait, no, five years to achieve above 100% as a final mark in anything. No wonder you're so...homely; you spend zero time on anything but schoolwork."  
  
Hermione kept writing furiously but paused just long enough to say, "Draco, do you never completely snap out of asshole-of-the-decade mode?"  
  
"Only decade? I was going for century." He laughed.  
  
She sighed. "Fine, century, whatever it takes to make you shut up."  
  
"Oh but my dear little Mudblood, what ever would you do without me and my biting wit?"  
  
Hermione ground her teeth and dug her fingernails into her palm to avoid snatching her wand and zapping him into a...a ferret. The memory of Draco, The Amazing Bouncing Ferret made her laugh aloud.  
  
Draco - the ever arrogant Dragon - cringed inwardly. There was only one reason such a laugh was made in his presence - when someone was laughing at him. It was the free, slightly derisive laugh that HE laughed at other people, and it rankled to have it turned back on him. Not knowing what else do to, Draco got up and remarked snidely, "Well, I'd best leave you alone with your homework and your...amusing fantasies. Have fun being alone, Granger."  
  
*****  
  
The remaining days before school officially started passed in a similar fashion, the banter between them slowly growing more and more spiteful, but also growing ever-so-slightly more friendly.   
  
"Draco, might I be able to pose a challenge to your non-existant sense of respect for others?"  
  
"Does Filch have a cat named Mrs. Norris? Try me."  
  
"D'you think that MAYBE you could call me Hermione instead of Granger? I mean, if we're to at least appear to be friends in front of the rest of the students..." She trailed off.  
  
Draco almost choked. This little...stuck-up, walking encyclopedia wanted him to acknowledge the fact that she might exist? It was almost too much to handle. Though, she had given him the same respect. It couldn't hurt... "I'll think about whether or not you really deserve it, Granger. Hermione." He corrected himself, and he found that her name tasted odd on his tongue.  
  
It sounded even more odd from Hermione's perspective, but...she had asked for it. She couldn't deny that. She shrugged mentally; another day, another battle, and this time, a battle won.  
  
*****  
  
The day of the Sorting came after what seemed like millenia, and the first name to be called was "Avis, Rara!"  
  
A pretty girl with long, thick blond hair and dark blue eyes calmly stepped forward and sat on the stool. The Sorting Hat was placed upon her head, and almost immediately it called out "Ravenclaw!"  
  
Hermione, for no reason that she could understand, clapped far louder than she normally would have; Draco applauded sulkily: for no reason he could understand, he had hoped she'd be Sorted into Slytherin.  
  
Rara seemed to sense their attention, and she turned and beamed at them as she raced to her new place at the Ravenclaw table.  
  
*****  
  
Though she was in neither of Hermione or Draco's houses, they both went out of their way to show affection for Rara. She basked in their attention, but because it was showered upon her and her alone, she was teased unmercifully. It didn't help that she exceeded the Ravenclaw standard of intelligence either; she was the best in her year and some said that Hermione was giving her lessons on the sly, though that rumor was completely without basis.  
  
And thus it went, with Rara being adored by Hermione and Draco, all the while being despised for that adoration by her year-mates.  
  
*****  
  
Rara ran, sobbing, from Charms. The girl sitting next to her had made a snide remark about hoping the feather they were trying to levitate hadn't come from a relative of Rara's, and that had been the last straw for her.  
  
She ran down twisting corridors and up and down ever-moving stairways, to find the secret entrance for Dumbledore's office that only she and a select few others knew about. She stopped in front of a tapestry that depicted a revelry in a forest glade. Dumbledore had once told her that the forest in the tapestry was the same Forbidden Forest that all students were warned about, but in the days when the tapestry had been woven, the Forest was known as "Eleisium", after the Roman heaven. Rara paused briefly to wonder how it came to be the Forbidden Forest, but she checked herself and ducked behind the tapestry, remembering the reason of her flight.  
  
Rara whispered "Peanut brittle", and a stone in the wall glimmered. She tapped it once, twice, three times with her wand, and the wall shivered and parted to reveal a steep and narrow stairway.  
  
Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the beautifully carved ebony-wood door in a matter of moments. She knocked a soft pattern, and the door gave way to Albus Dumbledore's study.  
  
"Oh, Bumblebee!" Rara cried, running to where Dumbledore stood pondering a series of leather-bound tomes which stood on a shelf. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his thick white beard. "When you told me it wouldn't be easy, I didn't think you meant handling the other students!"  
  
Dumbledore wrapped Rara in a giant bear-hug before replying. "My dear child, it is not something we can do much to relieve, I fear. But if it would ease your mind, you may stay with Hermione tonight, if she agrees."  
  
Rara looked up into his face. "Really, Bumblebee? Honestly?"  
  
Dumbledore chuckled. Rara was such a treasure; she could be such...such an old soul, sometimes, yet every once in a while a child peeked out at him from behind those wise eyes. "Yes, my dear. Now get yourself back to class, before you're in too much trouble."  
  
*****  
  
Hermione smiled down at the little girl that had fallen asleep in her lap and gently stroked her hair, careful not to wake her. Rara had asked to stay with her and Draco several times since the schoolyear had begun three months ago; as long as Dumbledore approved, Hermione didn't mind. In fact, she rather enjoyed being close to Rara, though she couldn't fathom why she was so attached to her.  
  
Draco shut the door to his room softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping child, and padded over to the couch where Hermione and Rara sat and slept, respectively.  
  
"Just sent an owl to my father. He wasn't happy about Rara, so I told him to sod off. In polite terms. Something about it being my duty, and he didn't want me to bring dishonor to the family name by shirking it, or some such idiocy." Draco sat on the armrest of the couch and gazed down at Rara for a few heartbeats. "Lord, what a beautiful child. I hope one day I have a daughter like her."  
  
Rara had drifted out of sleep the moment she had heard Draco's voice, but she kept still. At his last remark, she smiled and allowed herself to drift again into the blackness of sleep.  
  
Draco caught the smile on Rara's face. "I'm glad she's able to sleep peacefully here." Rara had recurring nightmares, but she refused to tell anyone what they were about. They must be terrible, though, because she always looked haggard and a thousand times older in the morning after a disturbed night.  
  
Hermione nodded absently; something in his voice set her deep in thought. She had been forced to reassess everything she knew Draco to be, as being around Rara brought out the very best in him. Watching him be around Rara - he was kind, caring...one could say loving, almost. Protecting, gentle. Merlin, she thought, what an amazing human being he is.  
  
She chuckled to herself. She and Draco had been getting closer and closer - as friends, never more than that - and the rest of the school saw it; naturally there were whispers about a non-platonic relationship when in reality, that was a mere wisp of imagination.   
  
Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the school saw something they, perhaps, didn't.  
  
At that very moment, Draco was wondering the same thing. He had seen Hermione and Rara curled up together before, but tonight it had struck a new chord. He wanted to be curled up with them, sharing the tenderness and closeness of the moment.  
  
The mere idea of the scandal it would cause if people (particularly his father) knew of his feelings almost made him laugh aloud. Slytherin would think him either a traitor, or just after a challenging conquest. Gryffindor would see him as a seducing bastard, out to destroy their darling Mione.  
  
Then there was the fact that he wasn't too sure what he was feeling for Hermione. He highly doubted that it was a simple crush, and he was positive it wasn't straight-forward lust. What did that leave? Something nobody would imagine an 18 year old to be able to recognize, much less understand.  
  
"Hermione" and "Draco" were said at the same instant. There was a moment of awkward silence, each trying to figure out who should speak first. Finally, "Erm...it's late, Mione. We should all get to bed."  
  
"You're right." No movement at all. There was a barely detectable hint of disappointment in Hermione's voice.  
  
"Rara sleeps better in your room. I'm not tired just yet, so I'll stay out here and you can sleep in my room."  
  
She nodded, but again didn't move.  
  
"Mione. Hermione?" Draco gently lifted her chin to break her intent staring at the fire.  
  
"Yes, Draco, I heard. Rara in my room, me in yours, you out here. Here, can you carry her?" Hermione shifted Rara, and Draco lifted her easily into his arms and carried her into Hermione's room, where he carefully tucked her into the red-and-gold down comforter. He resisted the temptation to drop a kiss on her forhead.  
  
When Draco emerged again from Hermione's room, Hermione had already rearranged the pillows on the couch and shaken out the quilt. She paused for a split second before saying, "Draco, one last thing..."  
  
Before Draco could respond, she stepped lightly to where he stood and kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you for being who you are, Draco Malfoy." And with that, she disappeared into his room.  
  
And with that, in under fifteen seconds, Draco's world had a paradigm shift. The girl - woman who had proclaimed him asshole of the century at the beginning of the year had just thanked him for Merlin-knows-what.  
  
It would be a long night for both of them.  
  
*****  
  
Hermione woke first, as she usually did. For an instant she was confused...the green and silver didn't look familiar...then she remembered. Draco's room. The memory of what she had done on pure impulse last night came back to her, and she wanted to hide and never be seen again. On the other hand, however, it had seemed like the right thing to do.  
  
She stretched, and breathed in deeply. She was surrounded by the wonderful fragrance of Draco. A bit of his cologne - the barest trace of it - a bit of him, and...was that a bit of chocolate that she smelled? She almost laughed...the arrogant, perfect Draco kept a stash of chocolate in his room. A stash large enough to be found by nose alone.   
  
Quietly leaving the warm bed, Hermione began her search by sniff-power alone. She opened a drawer, and there, buried beneath his boxers - she chuckled at some of them; really, where had he heard about Scooby Doo? - was a heap of Chocolate Frogs. She giggled and simply closed the drawer, not disturbing the chocolate.  
  
She went about her morning routine quickly; as much as she wanted to dawdle in the luxurious shower, she needed to talk to someone about what the hell she was going to do about Draco.  
  
Hurrying past the couch where Draco still slept, she noticed his peaceful form. On a sudden whim to capture and treasure the moment, she went back to her room and grabbed her camera. Hermione took several pictures from all angles, including a close-up of Draco's features.  
  
Hermione had taken up photography as a hobby a few summers ago, and she had framed and hung some amazing photos (developed both by magical and muggle means) she had taken of Ron, when they had tried dating for a short time. It was sweet while it had lasted, but they had really been better friends than a couple. Hermione sighed; she and Ron had disappointed a lot of people when they broke up, but in all honesty, there was no spice. It had seemed like Ron was afraid of loving her and their relationship. He had kept his fire tightly reigned. Hermione smiled wistfully, thinking that the woman who could get him to loosen up would be lucky indeed.  
  
Popping back into her room to stow away her camera again, Hermione snapped a few pictures of Rara, who was also still sleeping. Apparently, the clicking of the shutter roused Rara slightly, who murmured, "Mama?"  
  
Hermione smiled and whispered back, "No, just Hermione. Go back to sleep, dear Rara." With that, she left her camera on her bureau and left the Head-Quarters. 


	2. Fluff and Fluffibility

Chapter Two - Fluff and Fluffibility  
  
The ball's in Draco's court. Just let it be, let him think, and something will either come of it, or not come of it. At least, that was what Ginny told Hermione.  
  
Ginny herself had no clue what Hermione saw in Draco. But they lived together, so Hermione saw a lot more of Draco than Ginny did.  
  
"Hermione, why Draco? Why not that simply stunning new Gryffindor - what's his name? Basil something? He seems nice enough."  
  
Hermione sighed. "I dunno, Ginny. Really, I don't. Yeah, Draco's a prick most of the time, but when we're alone, he's not that bad. And when we're with Rara...I watch him, I watch him hug her, I watch him play cards or chess or checkers with her, I watch him talk to her, and I see a side of him that he keeps locked away from the world. And I can't help but think that he just...radiates warmth. And I say to myself, 'Hermione, you live with this astonishingly marvellous person. You have the privilege of seeing Draco at his best. Knowing him is shaping you into a better person. Wow, Hermione, you are so damn lucky.' And just when I think I love him, Rara leaves and he's back into his normal malicious self." She shrugged helplessly. "And I don't know how to get him to keep his wonderful side."  
  
She let out an exasperated noise and fell backwards onto Ginny's bed, hands covering her eyes. "What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?"  
  
"Like I said, Mione, it's his move. Give him time to think about it and about you."  
  
A long moment of silence passed.  
  
Hermione shook herself and, popping back up and into her bright, shining, happy self, she asked Ginny, "So how's it going with Harry The-Boy-Who-Didn't-Realize-Ginny-Was-Alive-Till-Final-Year Potter?"  
  
Ginny giggled and looked as if she were about to let Hermione in on a big secret. "Well...you know that Ron didn't know whether to have a litter of kittens or not when we first started dating...he's torn between making us swear to keep the "mushy stuff" - as he terms it - behind closed doors, and not letting us out of his sight. The look on his face when Harry and I just hold hands in front of him is positively delightful! Really, Hermione, we miss you. I realize you've got a bunch more responsibilities, but you're missing out on some of the best gossip-worthy happenings! Of course," here Ginny paused and looked at Hermione with a sidelong glance, "you've got some gossip-worthy happenings happening in your own little world, with a certain blond hunk of numminess..."  
  
Shocked, gasping, and giggling, Hermione picked up a pillow and swung it lightly at Ginny. "Are you listening to yourself, Ginny? You just called Draco Malfoy a hunk of - of numminess! Granted he is, but it's the principle of the thing! And I swear, if I hear rumors about us, Ginny, you will rue the day you came to Hogwarts!"  
  
The scene in Ginny's room quickly dissolved into a mass of flying pillows accompanied with giggles, punctuated occasionally by shrill screams of outrage.  
  
*****  
  
Draco paced irritably in his room. He had sent a nasty owl to his father a little over a week ago. There had been no response from either parental unit, and he still didn't know what he should do regarding Hermione. Neither boded well. Rule number five of both Slytherin and the Malfoy household: Never be uncertain. It shows weakness.  
  
Draco couldn't afford to be weak. His father had so kindly taught him that particular tidbit. His life had been as happy as it could have been, he supposed. He'd had everything he wanted, but there were always...lessons, when he didn't do something right. Which wasn't that often; Draco had learned early on to be perfect in the eyes of Lucious Malfoy.  
  
The fact that he had talked back to his father in a letter and had no response for a week made him nervous. Generally, Lucious was predictable. He wasn't being predictable now, and when he deviated from his usual path trouble followed.  
  
Merlin's beard! What had Draco been thinking, to write that stupid letter? He hadn't been, and that was dangerous. Whatever Lucious was up to now, Draco deserved it out of the sheer magnitude of his idiocy.  
  
Draco's wandering thoughts turned towards Hermione. During the past week as he had begun to sweat more and more about Lucious, he and Hermione had grown more distant, regardless of whether Rara was around or not. That was probably his fault, too. He should have done something, but the stupid letter wouldn't go away long enough for him to think.  
  
So think now. He wanted to have something with Hermione, he really did, but if Lucious caught wind of it, there'd be hell to pay. Was Hermione worth it? Gods, yes.  
  
Now the only problem was figuring out how to go about it.  
  
*****  
  
Bumblebee had owled her in the morning, telling her to come to his office once she had time. He had also cautioned her against noising it about, so what he wanted to tell her must be important. Or, in other words, not-so-good news.  
  
Rara sighed; she didn't have a class for another hour and a half, so she might as well go now.  
  
Rara sped down the pathways to Dumbledore's office, arriving there short of breath. She gained admittance from behind the tapestry, and Dumbledore was waiting for her, a grave look on his face.  
  
"Malfoy has disappeared, Rara."  
  
The look on her face was one of stunned disbelief. "But...but that didn't - it didn't happen like that!"  
  
Dumbledore sighed a great sigh of foreboding. "We can only begin to guess what made him take flight. Perhaps he heard of your presence here, though how he found out who you are, I don't know. Perhaps it's not even what we guess: maybe he's just gone on a little holiday to Nice. He's done that before, you know."  
  
"But you still think I should tell Mione and Draco, don't you? You think this is it?"  
  
A long pause, then "I'm afraid this could be it, Rara."  
  
In a small, small voice, Rara said, "Do you think...How do you think they'll take it?"  
  
Dumbledore gathered her into an immense, comforting hug. "I think they'll love you all the more, dearest Rara. Would you like me to be present when you tell them?"  
  
Rara sniffled, and was tempted for a nanosecond to say yes. Then she gathered her strength and said "No, Bumblebee. If you could be...near, but not there. Just in case."  
  
He squeezed her lightly and let her go.  
  
Stepping back and looking up at Dumbledore she asked, "When should I tell them?"  
  
His eyes twinkled. "Give them a few days, Rara dear."  
  
*****  
  
It was midnight before Hermione managed to get back to the dorm. She'd had a long day of first classes, then schoolwork in the library, then tutoring some of the younger students. She longed to just crawl into her warm, soft bed and sleep for twelve hours. Unfortunately, tomorrow wasn't Saturday or Sunday, so the most she could hope for was seven or eight hours.  
  
She slipped into bed with a groan. Tomorrow wouldn't be a good day; it was too close to mid-term exams, and she had promised to help some of the fifth years study. Knowing the fifth years, however, it would take them at least a half hour before they actually opened their books. Hermione didn't want to deal with the stress of trying to get them to settle down. Hermione told herself that she'd cross that bridge when she got there, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.  
  
Her dreams were the stuff of fantasy: She dreamt she was in bed, asleep, and Draco came to take her away somewhere, but he wouldn't tell her where. Suddenly, they were floating, then flying through the roof, over the countryside. But instead of it being covered in snow, the golden light of the sun filtered down through the clouds to shine on emerald-green grass and crops.  
  
Dream-Draco flew with her to a field covered in magnificent wildflowers, and there they alighted. Somehow, the meadow morphed into an exotic greenhouse and without moving, Draco and Hermione perused the flowers that were being grown. Draco stopped where the hibiscus grew, and plucked several. Hermione was upset that Draco had plucked them, because now they'd wither and die, but Draco leaned close and whispered, "They're magic - they'll keep blooming and they will never die, unless you wish them to."  
  
Again they whisked away through the greenhouse, this time stopping at the orchids. Several lavender flowers caught Hermione's eye, and, noticing this, Draco plucked these as well. And again he whispered, "As long as you wish, these shall not wither." With those words he kissed her gently, almost chastely.   
  
Then, a vivid sensation of falling. Hermione snapped her eyes open, suddenly awake. She glanced at the window, and breathed a sigh of relief. Early morning sunshine streamed from the glass panes. At least she hadn't overslept. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand to see exactly how long she could stay beneath the warm down comforter, but it was blocked by something.  
  
She squinted, trying to get her eyes to focus. A glass bowl. Experimentally, she dipped a finger into the bowl, and encountered water. What in the name of Merlin's first spell was a glass bowl filled with water doing in her room? Hermione struggled to sit up and look closer. Oh, she thought. Lavender orchid blossoms were floating on the surface of the water.  
  
And on the far side of the bowl were several white hibiscus flowers tied into a bouquet. Hermione fumbled to pick them up and look closer, and upon inspection, found they were tied with a silver ribbon, and hanging from it was a silvered card. Inscribed on the card, in hunter green ink, were the words, "As long as you wish, these shall not wither."  
  
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AN: Yay! Second chapter up in under two weeks, but not as substantial as I'd hoped. Should I post a "beware of fluff" sign? I wanted to get the plot rolling in this chapter, but I didn't. Oh well. Next chapter, I promise!  
  
Saphira: I have issues with naming my work, so I like to use Italian :) And about Rara...*thinks super fast* Nobody knows much about her, except for Dumbledore, and so she has an air of mystery about her. Thus, quick introduction? *sweats, hoping she'll be believed* Actually, I just didn't know what to do. What I originally had, I thought would give away too much. So yeah.  
  
Individualists/Xaralui: Bah! I *did* give away too much! Um. I, uh, shouldn'ta said that. Shhhh, be vewwy vewwy qwiet! Don't tell nobody!  
  
SilverDragon: Thanks, hopefully you continue to think it's great :)  
  
Pikachufan4288: Did I post it soon enough for ya? *grins* 


	3. Clear as Mud, Opaque as Crystal

*Small disclaimer before the story gets started...mild language, but not unnecessary. Okay, I'm done!*  
  
Chapter Three - Clear as Mud/Opaque as Crystal  
  
Draco grinned as he heard movement coming from Hermione's room; he had known that greaseball Snape would teach him something useful, and the Dream Giver Potion (which was part of the Special Sleeping Draughts section they had covered last year) certainly was useful, at least in this instance.  
  
He'd gotten a funny look from Professor Sprout when he'd asked if she knew what Hermione's favorite flowers were, though, but thankfully, no questions had ensued.  
  
A soft knock on the door: "Come in," he said.  
  
The door creaked open, and a slightly shy Hermione stepped into his room. Draco put down the book he had been reading and looked up at her from where he lay on his bed.  
  
Not knowing what to say, how to say it, or if she even wanted to know, Hermione began. "The flowers..."  
  
"Were my doing," Draco finished for her.  
  
"And the dream, then..."  
  
"Was also my doing."  
  
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, almost - but not quite - wishing that there never had been any dream or any flowers, wishing that she could go back and hide under her covers and never face this man. But there had been, she couldn't, and she had to know. "And so that means..."  
  
Draco took a deep breath - seemingly (to Hermione) just to draw out her nerves, make them snap and tingle with apprehension and expectation - and responded with "I love you."  
  
Hermione's still three-quarters asleep mind whirled at an amazing two whirls a minute. What in Merlin's name did one say to someone who professes his love for you? She pondered for a moment in silence, then scratched her scalp through her rather mussed hair.  
  
"I'm, uhmm, going to go...bathe. And have a cup of coffee. Can we, uhm, talk...maybe over breakfast?" Never put off indefinitely what you can put off for an hour or two...somehow, that sounded wrong in her head, but Hermione shook it off and blinked owlishly.  
  
Without waiting for a confirmation from Draco, she turned and walked away. "Ow! Damned, stupid, god-forsaken door jam...wasn't there when I came in.." She wound her way to the bathroom, stumbling and cursing over objects in her path.  
  
Draco could hardly contain his surprise. Never, in all the years he had known Hermione, had she cursed - much less been so shocked by something said or done as to be rendered unable to process an intelligent response. Of course, he mused, it surely wasn't every day the sexiest man in Hogwarts told her he loved her. Particularly at - he checked his clock - six thirty in the morning.  
  
He laughed to himself, then rolled over and went back to sleep, in search of another hour of rest.  
  
*****  
  
The walk to the Great Hall was silent; the search for a double espresso (for Hermione) and a hot chocolate (for Draco) was silent; the sitting at the Head table was silent. Neither knew who was to initiate this conversation, as necessary as it was.  
  
Fortunately, (or unfortunately, however one might view the situation) Rara came running up the aisle leading to their table. Hermione sighed briefly; she didn't really want her thoughts to be interrupted, even by Rara. She looked at Draco with a glance that said "Let me take care of her" then put on a bright smile for Rara.  
  
When Rara finally reached their table out of breath and was about to sit down, Hermione stopped her with a raised hand and said, "Rara, Draco and I need to talk...can we talk to you later?"  
  
Rara shook her head and spoke in a rush. "No, please Hermione, Draco, I really need to tell you something, and I wish it could wait, but it can't, and can we please go back to the Head quarters so we can talk-" She beckoned, babbling about something important that she had to tell them.  
  
As quickly as they dared to move without attracting attention, it wasn't fast enough for Rara and she stamped her foot to vent her frustration.  
  
To Rara, it seemed like it took the trio four times as long to reach the Head quarters, and she was positive the stairways were going out of their way to thwart progress, but they finally reached the picture-portal. Whispering the password, they stepped through to find Dumbledore standing in front of the fire.  
  
"Ahh, glad to see you made it in a timely fashion. Please, do sit down. I have some rather startling - and somewhat disturbing - news."  
  
The tone in Dumbledore's voice worried Hermione and Draco; never before had they heard him speak with the same it's-urgent-but-I-don't-want-you-to-panic quality. Nervous, they both sat down on the couch like obedient children.  
  
Albus Dumbledore always hated being the bearer of bad news, but the task invariably fell to him; and, it seemed, it would for a good many years to come. He sighed. "There is no delicate way to phrase this, Mr. Malfoy. Your father has disappeared from public view. For some good time, certain people have been monitoring his actions, dreading something like this, and what it might portend. The surveillance was lightened once Voldemort was defeated for good and all, but it was still continued."  
  
Dumbledore paused for the barest moment, noticing Draco's hand slowly creeping towards Hermione's and grasp it tightly. It wasn't fair, it really wasn't, that these two had not been given time enough to experience the warm-fuzzy side of love.  
  
Though Draco absolutely refused to allow it to show, he was scared. Something wasn't quite right about this, about any of it. His father had quite clearly told him to stay away from Rara. Draco had deliberately disobeyed, and obedience was high on the list of Rules That You Did Not Break. Not hearing from him for a week made Draco wonder if he had really managed to push his father's buttons, but to the extent that his father would - would come looking for him? He didn't think so, but...but he could never be too sure. He should pack, tonight, once Dumbledore was gone. His father wouldn't be able to Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds, and surely he wouldn't be able to find him without assistance...  
  
Hermione could do nothing but clasp Draco's hand as it inched closer for comfort. As she did so, however, she caught an intense wave of fear from him. Fear was something she had never known Draco to show, and it made her nervous. Whatever it was must be terrible, if Draco's showing fear...  
  
Rara was pacing behind the couch, tuning out Dumbledore. What he had to say wasn't anything new to her; indeed, she had known of it long before - correction, had known of it longer than he had. What was racing through her mind at a mile a minute was what she was going to say to Hermione and Draco. Sweet Merlin, there were so many "what-ifs" she had to wade through...what if they didn't believe her? What if they hated her? What if they were afraid of her? What if - and this was the one that frightened her the most - what if they didn't want her? What if, what if...what if...she wanted to scream at herself, shut up Rara! They won't, they love you, they'll believe you...just don't stumble over your words...be confident, as always...just tell them...  
  
Draco snapped out of the state of panic he was in by the words, "...committed to St. Mungo's..." He sat up, staring at Dumbledore. "What did you say about Mangy's?"  
  
"Draco, forgive me, but I have limited time to explain this. I understand, but please try to focus on what I'm saying. I said you mother has been committed to St. Mungo's. She's been raving about Tom Riddle's successor, and we suspect she's speaking about either your father, or someone he knows and has gone to aid."  
  
He felt like his breath had been knocked out of his lungs. His mother...Lucious would never, ever allow her to be put into Mangy's...unless...he swallowed against a tight knot in his throat. There had been an idea that was kicked around by some of the true Dark Side followers if Voldemort had ever truly been defeated. He'd never known many details, being considered too young, but by his father's disappearance and by his mother's commitment, he knew it must have been set in motion.  
  
Hermione had half her mind on what Dumbledore was trying to tell them, and the other half on Draco. She felt him tense when St. Mungo's was mentioned, and she squeezed his hand in an attempt to soothe him.  
  
just tell them...  
  
"My dears, that is all I have to say to you. Rara, on the other hand, has much more, and her news might come as a bit of a shock. Rara?" With that final word, Dumbledore made his exit from the room.  
  
just tell them...  
  
Rara came around to face them, then sat cross-legged on the floor. Just tell them. She rested her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. Just tell them. She looked up at them, and saw them through different eyes.  
  
Draco scrambled up the back of the couch and behind it, his eyes never leaving Rara's face. In his haste, he forgot he was clenching Hermione's hand and dragged her with him, until her cry of pain brought him to his senses.  
  
"What in the name of holy hell is going on? I mean, what the fuck?! Is this some kind of sick joke?" Draco's panic was caused by what Rara's countenance had become.  
  
Looking back at him, boring holes into his soul, were his eyes. The palest blue, framed by his mother's aristocratic eyebrows and forehead. Continuing upwards, he saw hair a shade or two darker than his own, surrounding a face shaped like Hermione's...her mouth, her nose...  
  
Unable to tear his eyes from Rara, Draco stutteringly whispered, "Who...who are you?"  
  
Eyes brimming with repressed tears, Rara looked from Hermione to Draco to where Dumbledore had left, then back to Draco.  
  
"I'm your daughter, Draco. Yours and Mione's."  
  
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A/N: I'm glad my reviewers are liking this, hehe, and for SilverDragon and Pikachufan4288, I'm writing as fast as the story will allow, honest I am! I'll try to write faster though, but I'm fast running out of pre-done plot line to follow. Anyway, *sigh* I'll do my best :) 


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